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“That was an accident. We’re not sleeping together. He’s my driver.”
“Your driver? Kenny, what’s goin’ on?”
He explained, although, in Emma’s opinion, he placed unnecessarily negative emphasis on her leadership skills.
When he was done, Torie said, “So you’re really a lady?”
“Yes, but I don’t use my title.”
“I sure as hell’d use my title if I had one.”
“That’s what I said.” Kenny shot Emma an I-told-you-so look.
Emma gave up.
“Wynette’s not that far from Austin, Lady Emma.” Torie uncoiled from the stool as gracefully as a lynx and headed to the sink to rinse off her sticky fingers. “And it’s a real nice town. As long as you’re in Texas, why not see how the natives live instead of just hitting the tourist spots? Kenny can take you back and forth to the UT library whenever you want, and San Antonio’s not that far either. What do you say? As a gesture of feminist solidarity, will you help me get him back to his home-town?”
“She doesn’t have any say in this,” Kenny responded, clearly irritated.
Emma thought about it. Despite what she was telling everyone, her primary purpose in coming to Texas wasn’t to do research. As long as she had access to the libraries she needed, she could finish that up in a few days. Far more important was the task of casting a shadow over her character, and she could do that just as easily in Wynette as anywhere else. Besides, being in the presence of a woman as outrageous as Torie Traveler was bound to upset Hugh. And it might be easier for Beddington’s detective force to keep track of her in a small town. She had to admit the idea of having her base in Wynette was more appealing than moving from one impersonal big city hotel to another. “All right. Yes, I suppose that would work.”
“No,” Kenny said. “Absolutely not.”
“Just think about our stepmama,” Torie said to him. “She’ll wet her pants having a real, live member of the British aristocracy in town.”
“The best reason of all to stay away,” he retorted.
Torie’s expression grew cagey. “Do I have to remind you about a certain Christmas morning during our childhood when our mother showered you with a couple thousand dollars’ worth of presents, but never got around to buying me anything?”
Emma straightened. What was this?
Kenny shot his sister an exasperated look. “I’ve spent the last seventeen years trying to make up for our dysfunctional childhood, and you’re not putting me through any more guilt trips.”
“Or maybe I should bring up the time I bought that great big Minnie Mouse cookie with my allowance money. It had those cute little sticky-up ears and a bow across the top. Remember the fit you kicked up because you wanted it, and how she slapped me across the face when I refused to give it to you? You stood right in front of me and ate the whole thing while I watched.”
He winced. “Torie, everybody in the world knows that she was crazy and I was a spoiled brat!”
“I remember there were a couple bites of that hair bow left over—”
“Torie . . .” His voice sounded a warning note.
“But instead of giving them to me, you threw them in the—”
“All right! You win, damn it! But this is against my better judgment.”
For a moment Torie appeared almost fragile. Then she curled one arm around his neck and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Thanks, bubba. I owe you one.”
“You owe me more than one,” he sighed. “But I’ll still never catch up.”
Chapter 7
“Surely your sister exaggerated,” Emma said. “Your mother couldn’t really have permitted such a thing.”
Kenny pointed toward the passing landscape through the Cadillac’s window. “Look at those bluebonnets over there. And that red’s Indian paintbrush. Isn’t this just about the prettiest view you’ve ever seen?”
He obviously didn’t want to talk about his childhood, and, once again, Emma let herself be distracted by the beauty of the Texas Hill Country. They were west of Austin now, not far from Wynette, on a two-lane highway that offered breathtaking vistas of rugged hills slashed with limestone and expansive valleys carpeted with fields of wildflowers, some stretching nearly as far as the eye could see. Since they’d left, she’d spotted her first Texas longhorn cattle, glimpsed several deer, and watched a bird Kenny identified as a red-tailed hawk circle a ribbon of crystal-clear river that sparkled in the sun. Now, however, she forced her attention away from the view to once again concentrate on piecing together the story behind what she’d heard this morning. Even though it was none of her business, she couldn’t seem to help herself. She simply had to know more about him.
“Tell me about your childhood, Kenny. I’m only inquiring as an educator, you understand. I’m fascinated by the effect upbringing has on adult behavior.”
